The Bodyguard
by waatp
Summary: A mega rich and slightly self indulgent DJ and actress suddenly finds herself in need of a full time Bodyguard ... but she doesn't know it. A former Secret Service Agent turned consultant protector hates the limelight, the rich and famous but is compelled to do what's right. What happens when they find themselves thrust together and have to make their working life mesh? AU Jeca.
1. No Smoke Without Fire

_A/N - Watching this film recently inspired me to write this FanFiction based on The Bodyguard. The whole way through I could just see Beca and Jesse playing these parts. I hope you enjoy my take on it :)_

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**The Bodyguard  
.o0o. Chapter One - No Smoke Without Fire .o0o. **

**_Daly City - A Parking Garage, Level 3_**

The dark, dirty underground parking garage proved to be the perfect place for the ambush.

The single, bare bulb, hanging haphazardly just above the rusting pipes, flickered and swayed as the rumble of traffic ahead caused the ceiling to shake. The constant drip, drip, drip of water sounded loud and eerie as the echo of two sets of footsteps came to an abrupt halt.

"Get down!"

The sharp, urgently hissed command from the younger man was adhered to immediately and both men dropped to a crouch behind the large, black SUV that had been parked at a particularly odd angle; almost as if the driver had been in a hurry to get out. The older of the two men looked afraid and placed his hands on the ground to steady himself while the younger man drew the Browning handgun from his chest holster and raised it straight out in front of him; his arm locked and his hand steady and unwavering.

"Is _he_ … here?" The hushed, smooth voice of the older, long silver haired man broke through the intensity as the brown haired guy in the well cut and expensive suit put his finger to his lips and motioned for him to be quiet and still.

A metallic _ping_ behind the two men had the armed bodyguard spinning immediately to his left and without even a warning shout or a second too long to process, he fired off three shots into the gloomy space, hitting his target definitively in the chest.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Both men watched as the body, clad in a blue boiler suit and ski mask fell to the ground, clearly felled in an instant. His eyes remain locked onto the older man as the life drained away from him, small bubbles of blood popping at the corner of his mouth as the bodyguard kept his Browning trained onto the motionless body.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, punching in numbers before speaking quietly into the mouthpiece.

"It's done. It's over. Call the police."

**.o0o.**

**_San Francisco - Bainbridge Enterprises, Top Floor_**

Later that night, in a small, dark and heavily wood panelled office, the two men sat opposite each other on soft leather chairs. The small table lamp between them the only light in the room.

The older man, Arthur Bainbridge; a wealthy businessman with connections to Congress sat forward in this chair, nursing a large glass of Glenfiddich 1955; a bottle rumoured to be worth well over $100,000. He looked down at his hands and was fairly surprised to see the violent shake in his fingers.

"Your hands ever shake, Jesse?" He asked the man opposite him.

"Sometimes." Jesse Swanson said as he smoothed down the front of his fresh, dark grey suit having changed from the previous one he wore earlier that evening as it was covered in car oil and diesel. "It's just adrenaline."

"How did you know he was there? The man that's been threatening me to kill me for weeks."

"I saw him washing the car." Jesse said, relaxing for the first time in months as the slivers of fatigue tugged at the corners of his eyes.

"Yes, I did as well but how–"

"-Well, for a start they don't wash cars on the parking levels and secondly, who washes cars at nine thirty at night in a ski mask."

Arthur chuckled and took a healthy gulp of the cool liquid in his cut crystal glass. He enjoyed the burn in his throat for a moment longer than necessary and ran his fingers through his hair. He set the glass down on the small, mahogany table to his left and picked up a long envelope, holding it out to Jesse who leaned forward to take it in his fingers.

"I'd like you to stay on Jesse. Become part of my core staff."

"The threat is over Arthur."

"But still, there is always-"

"-I'm not good in a permanent position, my feet go to sleep. I get lazy and sloppy."

"I'll be disappointed to see you leave Jesse. I owe you my life."

Both men stood, and Jesse discretely folded the envelope, slipping it into his inner suit pocket. They shook hands, nodding at each other before Jesse left the office silently, closing the door quietly behind him on Arthur and on the assignment he'd spent the past four months on. Arthur returned to his whiskey, grateful for Jesse's expertise and experience.

**.o0o.**

**_Culver City - Ashcroft Building, Apartment 605_**

The rubber gloved hand was steady as it painstakingly and slowly snipped the letters and words from the large pile of glossy magazines and papers on the desk in front of the neat stack of white sheets of paper. The large, shiny, silver scissors meticulously cut each letter out before running the glue stick over the back of the cut-out and placing it carefully and neatly on the half composed letter.

_YOU BITCH – YOU HAVE EVERYTHING. I HAVE NOTHING!  
YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME.  
I HATE YOU! HOW COU_

The words were harsh and prominent against the clean, white paper and the writer was waiting to fill the rest of the paper with more venom as the music channel switched over to play the latest hits from all the fresh new talent from the last year. The song that begun to play filled the room and despite the heat, it sent shivers down the spine of the occupant inside followed by boiling anger as the soft melody echoed against the walls and the heartfelt words ignited a rage like never before.

To anyone else the song, sung beautifully by one of the world's most popular and young, up and coming artists, was simply about a mothers love for her child.

_In my daughter's eyes I am a hero  
I am strong and wise and I know no fear  
But the truth is plain to see, she was sent to rescue me  
I see who I wanna be in my daughter's eyes  
In my daughter's eyes everyone is equal  
Darkness turns to light and the world is at peace  
This miracle God gave to me gives me strength when I am weak  
I find reason to believe in my daughter's eyes  
And when she wraps her hand around my finger  
Oh it puts a smile in my heart  
Everything becomes a little clearer  
I realize what life is all about  
It's hangin' on when your heart has had enough  
It's giving more when you feel like giving up  
I've seen the light; it's in my daughter's eyes  
In my daughter's eyes I can see the future  
A reflection of who I am and what will be  
Though she'll grow and someday leave, maybe raise a family  
When I'm gone I hope you see how happy she made me  
For I'll be there in my daughter's eyes _

The words and song angered the writer so much so that a small bubble of blood popped from a nostril, snaking it's way over a lip and splashed soundlessly on to the monogrammed shirt that had seen better days.

"I _hate_ you."

These were the only words spoken in the room for the rest of the day.

**.o0o.**

**_Hollywood - Grauman's Chinese Theatre, Kerbside_**

The chanting of the crowd surrounding the Grauman's Chinese Theatre could be heard from inside the limousine as it travelled sedately along Hollywood Boulevard and entered Hollywood and Highland. The driver, a happy go lucky blonde in her late twenties, was mildly distracted by the flurry of text messages steaming onto her phone and narrowly missed two pedestrians as they stepped into the path of the vehicle with their cameras poised to get a stolen snapshot of the occupants of the limo.

"What's tomorrow?" The small brunette in the back seat asked, leaning forward as she took a large mouthful of icy cold water from the bottle in her hand, wiping her chin slightly as the car lurched to the left which caused the smallest of spills. "What have I been roped into?"

"Charity Concert preparation." The brisk, curt reply was as expected from the uptight blonde as was the instant answer. "We'll need to leave at ten thirty at the latest."

"Great." The brunette deadpanned as she adjusted the strap on her silver cocktail dress and twisted one of the rings on her finger. "Chloe, are Brynn and Bowen with you tomorrow?"

"Yes, Beca." Chloe Beale said quietly, sitting on the seat opposite from her best friend of 23 years. "We'll be at the house until their play date at 4pm at the Millers."

"Great." Rebekah 'Beca' Mitchell said and quickly sent a smile in the direction of the redhead, remembering her manners. She inclined her head slightly towards the uptight blonde. "Aubrey, I need you to schedule me some proper time with my children the day after."

"I'm not sure you'll have time." Aubrey Posen spoke urgently, pulling the small tablet from her pocket. She punched at the screen for a moment or two as the driver pulled up outside the theatre and lowered the screen divider catching the end of the conversation. "You have quite a busy schedule until-"

"-It wasn't a request." Beca grumbled as the vehicle came to a stop. Aubrey nodded, trying to hide her frustration.

Through the windows, not only could the sounds of cheering and chanting of the large group of fans be heard but the flashing from camera and phones almost blinded the occupants. The banging on the windows and roof of the limousine made everyone jump, especially Aubrey and Chloe who looked to each other in a manner that went completely over Beca's head. That was as intended; they were paid to keep her safe.

The sound of a voice speaking over the throng filtered through the noise of the crowd as the female driver jumped out of the car and quickly moved to the back door, pausing for a second before she pulled on the handle, popping the lock with enthusiastic gusto.

"Who do we have here?!" The synthesised voice echoed around the street. "It looks like ... yes, I think it ... oh yes, here she is folks; it's four time Grammy award, two Golden Globe, three Emmy and one time Academy Award winner not to mention multi platinum award owner of course, it's our BAFTA nominated, Billboard Beauty, songwriter, singer and darling actress ... Becaaaaaaaaa Miiiiiitchell!"

Beca resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the rather unnecessary introduction as she stepped out of the back of the car and thanked Amy Wilson, her driver for the past year, before turning to the crowd and waving with mock enthusiasm and happiness. The crowd went wild and surged forward immediately and Beca tried to shield herself the outstretched hands from touching her. It was always the same and while she didn't want anyone's hands on her and actually touching her, she secretly did crave the attention she received from the people on the street.

"Hello!" She called out to the crowd as her personal assistant Aubrey alighted from the car, followed by her ever smiling best friend, Chloe. She looked towards the front of the car as the fifth occupant; her personal bodyguard popped up the front door and lazily poked a foot out of the car, tucking the last of his sandwich into his right cheek as he turned to close the door behind him and almost sashayed towards Beca.

He'd been employed by the superstar for the past five years and while he acted like a slob most of the time, Bumper Allen wasn't afraid to step up and slug anyone who got in his charge's way when the time and occasion called for it. It wasn't a well kept secret that, in the beginning, he had had a severe crush on the delectable pin up which had over the years turned into an almost overwhelming need to protect her from everyone.

He reached Beca and stood a little in front of her, clearing a path for her to walk through, parting the crowd easily.

"How are y'all doing!" Beca called out and the crowd roared as she pushed through the people, signing whatever was thrust into her face. People grabbed at her, snapping photos and yelling into her face, calling out her name and asking questions. Gifts were pressed into her hands; dolls, bears, boxes of candy, letters, presents for her twins, flowers and jewelry.

She thanked each fan for their gifts and cards, smiling genuinely and broadly as she passed all the things she was given to Aubrey who clutched everything close to her, juggling the amount of things she'd been passed as they made their way up the steps to the theatre. Beca turned at the top and waved to the crowd as the entourage all passed through the door, enjoying the resounding bang as it shut heavily behind them. The smile dropped off her face as she turned to Bumper.

"Fuck sake, you gotta stop them from touching me Bump. They had their grubby hands all over me."

"I tried Beca." Bumper said lamely as Aubrey handed Chloe and Amy; who had joined them from the side entrance after parking the limo in the underground car park, all of the fans' gifts. She pushed Beca towards the green room door to get ready for her set on stage. Beca was used to Aubrey clucking around her and made no attempt to argue with her.

Chloe shrugged her shoulders at Amy as they set everything down onto the table by the green room door and went off in search of a box to collect up everything Beca had been given to put into the back of the limousine before they left for the night. Chloe maintained an impassive face as she walked past the green room door and just fixed a small smile on her lips as Amy began to rant about how insane the whole media attention was and how well recognised Beca Mitchell was.

Amy turned and caught sight of Bumper leaning up against the wall outside of the green room and made her excuses to Chloe so she could rejoin Bumper; neither of them admitting that there was a mutual attraction between the two of them.

Chloe had just left the corridor by the green room when an almighty bang resounding throughout the ground floor of the Grauman Chinese Theatre. Amy and Bumper dropped to their knees as the handmade replica DJ Beca Mitchell doll that Beca had _just_ been given outside; pressed into her hand by a very enthusiastic fan who wanted to rub his groin into her hip, suddenly exploded just four feet away from them sending showers of glass and plaster in all directions.

**.o0o.**

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_A/N - Song used is "In My Daughter's Eyes" by Martina McBride_

_Thank you all for reading. Your support and feedback are amazing and I appreciate every review xx_


	2. I'll Protect You (Hands Off The Goodies)

_A/N - Releasing my chapters unbeta'd at the minute so sincere apologies for any mistakes I didn't catch. I'mtoo lazy and full of my own self importance to re read these chapters and am far too eager and keen to release them out into the big, wide world of fanfiction.  
_

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**The Bodyguard  
.o0o. Chapter Two - I'll Protect You (Hands Off The Goodies) .o0o. **

**_Santa Monica - Suburban Home_**

Jesse Swanson absentmindedly stirred a large pot of Boeuf Bourgignon on the stove, in his non-descript kitchen of his non-descript house on his non-descript street.

He'd arrived home three hours ago, flicked on the television and unpacked his bags, squaring everything away where it should be within twenty minutes. He lit a fire in the small fireplace waiting for the warmth to seep through the small, two bedroom home he'd owned. he rubbed his hands together and held them over the spitting fire before rising to collect the mail that had collected by the door. Without looking at any of it, he stacked it neatly into a pile and carried to the fireplace, tossing it onto the crackling flames before turning his attention to dinner.

There was nothing on the television that he wanted to watch and he practically growled at the flickering channels showing commercial after commercial. He didn't want to watch useless celebrities fawn over each other at yet another made up award ceremony. He'd dug around in the freezer, not wanting to order takeout or leave the house for something to eat. He'd popped a bottle of beer and began to cook, using his mothers' recipe as a guide.

Testing a piece of the meat, he tucked the magazine he was reading under his arm before carrying the entire pot over to the small, rickety table with a place setting for one. He set it carefully down and sat, using the wooden spoon to eat directly from the pot. He cricked his neck a couple of times, popping the gas bubbles in his spine. The last job had been intense and Bainbridge had moved around the world a lot. He was happier now that his check was deposited in the bank and he had a few weeks' worth of free time to do whatever he wanted. He was officially off the clock and he was celebrating with a bottle of expensive red wine. Or two.

However, he hadn't anticipated a knock on his door at six o'clock the next morning.

Jesse opened the door with a face like thunder. The house was supposed to be his safe haven and he didn't want to be bothered with cold callers and people asking for directions. He stood with a set of sunglasses perched on his face, the after effects of two bottles of expensive Merlot from the night before taking their toll and he was face to face with a harassed but kindly looking lady with shockingly bright pink hair.

"Cynthia Rose Adams." She said, handing over her card. "I represent Beca Mitchell."

**.o0o. **

An old-fashioned lawn sprinkler lazily waved over the grass at the back of Jesse's house. The garden was unkempt and overgrown with a few random wooden posts poking out of the ground. Jesse sat in a lawn chair, sipping from a tall glass of something fizzy while Cynthia Rose paced about in front of him.

She knew the conversation was not going well and she was throwing every trick in her book to get the man in front of her to agree to her terms and what she needed him to do.

"So, you won't protect Beca Mitchell just because she's in show business?" She asked, slotting her hands on her hips and turning to face Jesse straight on.

"I don't do celebrities." Jesse said simply. "They are annoying and conceited, rude and demanding and I just don't need the hassle from those assholes."

"But the biggest money's in show business people."

"I don't care. I cannot abide their whiny attitudes and the '_all flock to me_' personas."

"She's not like that. She's-"

"-Exactly like the rest of the clones in Hollywood."

Jesse shook his head and pushed the sunglasses further up his nose, signalling the end of the conversation. Cynthia Rose threw her hands up in the air in frustration before turning to walk away.

"Isn't she the one who collects ducks?"

Cynthia Rose paused at the back gate and looked over her shoulder. She was surprised to see Jesse not two foot behind her as she'd not seen or heard him move.

"Mr Swanson, Beca Mitchell is one of the most famous people in America. She's won every music award invented. She's got the number one song in the country _right_ now and she'll probably be nominated for an Oscar in her very first picture. She's beautiful, smart, funny and let's face it, has a pretty impressive rack. But your only question, the only thing you want to know if she is the one who collects … Jesus, man, where've you been?"

"You mean, she doesn't collect ducks?" Jesse asked, his expression showing nothing.

"Yes." Cynthia Rose sighed. "Yes, she collects ducks."

"I _thought_ I knew who she was." Jesse said, a hint of something resembling a smile threatening to post itself on his mouth. Cynthia Rose looked at him, trying to decide whether he was kidding or not but Jesse's face gave nothing away. Instead she nodded to the post on the other side of the garden.

"You're probably deadly with these things, aren't you?" She asked, indicating a set of throwing knives by the post.

"Deadly." Jesse stated, backing away slightly, heading back in the direction of his lawn chair.

"Show me?" Cynthia Rose asked and huffed out her cheeks when Jesse sat down instead. "Why are you resisting this job? It's two thousand bucks a week."

She paused while she let that figure sink in a little.

"Two thousand, five hundred?"

"Look, I just don't want the hassle. There are several good men available for that kind of money. Have you talked to Applebaum or Viruet? Saying that, that guy rides a unicycle so avoid him. What about Bryant?"

"Yeah. Applebaum was interested …" Cynthia Rose said, crouching down in front of Jesse. She could sense that he was wavering slightly. "... but we're told that you're the _best_."

"There's no such thing." Jesse deadpanned.

"Swanson, get your head out of your ass. We're talking about a very frightened lady. With a two young children. Believe me, I wouldn't be here if I didn't think this was for real." Cynthia Rose said imploringly. "Look, Jesse, she _begged_ me to get you; there, are you happy now?!"

"All right. All right. All right. I'll come and I'll look the situation over. If I take it, it's four thousand a week. Plus expenses."

He got up from the lounger and walked over to the post, picking up the knives one at a time.

"Okay. You must be very deadly for three grand a week."

"I said four." Jesse repeated, fitting the knives in between his fingers. He shot a look over at Beca Mitchell's personal manager as he strode determinedly across the lawn. He liked her persistence. He raised his hand above his head and flung the knives towards the post. Cynthia Rose felt the rush of air as they flew past her, missing her by no more than a foot. Each one hit the post, sitting neatly in a vertical line. Cynthia Rose whistled.

"I don't do celebrities which is why my usual price for those over achievers is ten a week. But you had to go and mention the children, didn't you?"

"See you at 'auditions'!" Cynthia Rose laughed out.

**.o0o.**

**_Hollywood Hills - Mitchell Mansion_**

Jesse pulled up in to the driveway and double checked the address on the slip of paper he had. Confident he was in the right place, he nudged the car further up the driveway so that he cleared him off the road. He looked around him, taking in the heavy vegetation, the crumbling walls and the run down guards post right by the solid but rusty mechanical set of gates.

He looked right and left; the constant vigilance an ingrained habit. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled, a sign he knew well. He twisted in the seat of his beaten up Camaro, catching sight of a black Toyota 4x4, parked one hundred yards or so down the street. Jesse hadn't noticed it on the way in and as he began to turn fully to check the vehicle out, it suddenly sprang into life and accelerated past the driveway, causing the Camaro to rock slightly.

Jesse sat in the drive way for a good half an hour. He was usually early everywhere he went and took pride in his time keeping. Similar to his appearance. He had more suits and heavily starched shirts than a good sizes Neiman Marcus would stock and his shoes were always unnecessarily over polished. He checked his hair in the rear view mirror and started the engine, making a mental note that no one had come to ask why he was parked on the driveway for a length of time without announcing his arrival.

He pulled up to an old intercom, pressing the call button and waited. He heard a wave of static but no one answered so he pressed the button again, noting that the intercom, mounted onto a broken off pool cue was held together with bits of duct tape. The transmission was terrible but he soon heard a deep female voice crackle through the white noise.

"Yes?"

"It's Jesse Swanson to see Miss Mitchell."

"Wuuuuuut?" The voice drawled on the other end and Jesse bit down on his lip to hide his frustration.

"I said, it's the Dalai Lama to see Miss Mitchell."

"Um, do … *crackle* you have an *hiss* appointment."

"I have juice pouches and Rocky."

"Wuuuut?"

"A capella is my co-pilot."

"All right. Turn *hiss* left at the top *white noise* driveway."

The loud buzzing brought Jesse's attention immediately to the gates in front of him. He observed with interest the speed in which they opened, clanking loudly and groaning like an old lady doing yoga. Jesse's mind was working overtime as he slowly drove up the long, twisting driveway. He noted tall trees, more heavy landscaping and of course the large mansion on top of the hill. He counted at least thirty different places for someone to hide.

Without meaning to be, he was impressed by the size of the house as he pulled up outside what he assumed was the main door. He parked up next to a blonde wearing a squirrel onesie. She was hard at work, polishing and buffing a large, black limousine, paying extra attention to the mascot on the front of the hood. She turned to stare at him as he opened his door, putting down her cloth and almost dancing towards him.

Ignoring her, Jesse took in the rest of the landscape before him, spying a painters truck to the left where two men were emptying equipment from it.

"Can I help yoos?"

Jesse turned and saw that the blonde was still walking towards him.

"Are you the person on the intercom?" Jesse asked.

"No." She said, shaking out her polishing cloth, sending a shower of dust flies all over Jesse's impeccable suit. He noticed the thick, heavy bandage on her arm. "Can I help yoos?"

"My name is Chris Cringle. I have an appointment with Miss Mitchell."

"Oh, cool. And that was arranged by ...?"

"Miss Adams." Jesse said, impressed by the question.

"Go right ahead then Mr Cringle. Have a nice day."

"What happened to your arm?" He asked, watching her as she pulled her sleeve back over the bandage.

"A doll." She said, winking at him.

While Jesse was slightly confused by the last statement, he didn't let on. He simply turned from the chauffer and alighted up the three steps to the large porch area and the wooden front door with a large brass knocker in the shape of a treble clef. He quickly spotted that two of the lights were broken and the fake security camera aimed at the front door was fooling no one.

He reached out his hand to ring the doorbell, frowning as he realised the door was unlocked and open to anyone. He waited for a couple of minutes before the door was pulled open by a handyman who nodded to him as he walked past.

Jesse stepped, unannounced, into the foyer of the house and was immediately impressed. The marble floor held the grand oak staircase in all its splendour and he sneaked a glance up to the ceiling to see the custom made chandelier sparkling with the light bouncing in from all windows. The detail in the drops was incredibly, the musical notes held the small diamonds perfectly.

"Hello, can I help you?"

Jesse's neck snapped back to where it should be and he took in a tall, slim girl with long wavy hair in front of him. She stood, leaning heavily on one hip, filing her nails.

"Yes, Michael Mouse to see Miss Adams and Miss Mitchell."

"Sure, this way. I'm Stacie by the way."

Jesse followed Stacie off to the left. He caught sight of a couple of the rooms on the way through. There was an formal living room with a couple of large, high backed sofas and a coffee table, all decadent and plush. He passed a brightly coloured play room, filled with toys and a large, wall mounted television. Stacie popped her head into each room as they walked past.

"I'll tell you quite honestly, Mr Mouse, I don't know where Miss Adams is. Did she say she'd be here?"

"Yes." Jesse said, doing his best to keep his emotions in check. He took the time to have a good look around the house, noting all the points of entry, the open windows and the lackadaisical way in which he was just allowed to wander through someone's home.

"Then she'll be somewhere around." Stacie said, tucking her nail file back into her pocket. "Probably in the studio with everyone else."

They passed by three or four more rooms until they came to the kitchen. It was in here that Jesse could hear a cacophony of sounds and he instantly got a sensory overload as soon as they had walked through the kitchen, crossing the room and off to a discreet side door that lead into a large, open studio.

The room itself was flanked by a huge wall of televisions, some showing the football, others playing various music channels. The largest television in the middle of the room was showing video playback from the scene that was taking place right now. There were at least twenty five people in the room, some dancers, some production staff and a couple of people in suits. Bodies were moving everywhere, limbs flinging around in patterns that Jesse couldn't fathom and the music was so loud, it was hurting his ears; it simply served to remind him why he hated the lifestyle of the famous. Stacie indicated to a small seating area.

"Please make yourself at home." She said warmly. "Can I get you anything?"

Jesse shook his head and cast his eyes to the ceiling before taking in the abundance of equipment in the room. It was impossible to think in the crazily loud noise and hubbub. He cleared his throat and tried to steady his mind, taking himself back to a calmer place and time as he observed the semi naked dancers. He didn't recognise the style of music; it appeared to be a mash up of sorts and he couldn't understand why anyone would do that.

He stood for a good fifteen minutes before anyone even so much as looked his way. Jesse was aware of a very intense set of blue eyes watching him from across the room. Her hands were busy with notebooks, documents and a couple of children's hand drawn pictures and she had an expensive laptop perched on her knee. His eyes were drawn to a shock of ginger curls and a very warm smile that showed perfect white teeth.

He didn't return the acknowledgement.

Instead, his eyes floated over to the tall blonde who was clearly discussing something important on the phone. Her full concentration was on the tablet clutched tightly in her hand as she ran her other hand nervously over her stomach as she held the phone on her shoulder with her chin.

All of a sudden the music stopped and Jesse felt his ears send up a silent prayer. He saw a dark skinned man appear in the midst of the dancers, clapping his hands to the group.

"Playback everyone!" He said, twirling his hands around before pointing at the screen.

"Come here Donald!" A female voice rang out from somewhere in the room and Donald headed over towards a single seater sofa, pausing in front of it and talking to the occupant. There was an unwelcome sound of laughter and a big sloppy kiss being planted somewhere. Jesse flared his nostrils and felt his fingers twitch in annoyance. "Dude, that's gonna be awesome! I love the ending."

Jesse's eyes snapped to the right as Cynthia Rose entered the room, making a beeline directly for him. He tried to focus on her as the noise levels began to rise in the room again. Cynthia Rose turned just before she reached Jesse.

"Beca?" She said, quite softly. Jesse wondered why everyone seemed to be pandering to the '_frightened lady_' that he'd been told about.

He didn't have time to wonder why he'd not yet met the infamous Beca Mitchell yet, despite this being her house, as she began to call out to the curly hair ginger girl on the other side of the room.

"Chloe, how'd you like the number huh? You like the end routine? Better than the choreography that you suggested from last year, right?"

"Beca?" Cynthia Rose tried again.

"Beca, you wanna see it back from the beginning or just the ending?" Donald asked Beca.

"It was just great Donald, really." Chloe answered for Beca who had already moved on to talk to someone else.

"I want to see it all." Beca said, shooting a look to Chloe that smelt of _'don't you know who I am?'_. "Bumper? I'll bet Bumper loved it. Where is that weirdo?"

A stocky man with a face like a badger uncurled himself from the floor where he was currently having a nap.

"Meh." Bumper said, before scratching his backside.

"Don't worry Donny, Bumper doesn't appreciate great art when he sees it. Dude failed at launching his own brand of sports sandals."

Bumper stood and shrugged his shoulders before eventually catching sight of Jesse. He looked confused before walking over to the small bar area and helping himself to a can of soda. The music began to play loudly again.

"Lilly!"

A small, quiet Asian girl crossed the room, keeping close to the wall. She startled as someone called out her name and immediately pulled out a comb from her pocket and ran it through her fringe several times; a nervous habit that Jesse picked up on immediately.

"Costumes are awesome dude and just what we had in mind. We were really listening to each other. Where's Cynthia Rose? I need her opinion."

"Beca, Jesse Swanson is-" Cynthia Rose began to speak.

"Why are you back there weirdo." Beca's voice rang out across the room. Jesse was not impressed by the girl at all, especially since she hadn't moved from her chair. He'd yet to lay eyes on her. "What do you think of Lilly's latest costumes?"

"They're terrific." Cynthia Rose concluded and nodded to Lilly who scuttled away through a doorway. "Beca, Jesse Swanson is here."

"Who?" Beca called back as Chloe brought her over a tall glass of beer, hovering slightly until she was sure Beca wasn't going to hand it back to her.

"Jesse Swanson." Cynthia Rose repeated and waited for a response. "The bodyguard."

"I already have a bodyguard. He's shit but cheap."

"Beca!"

"What?"

"Get your butt out of that and come and meet this man."

"Urgh, okay, okay." Came the huffed out reply as an overly exaggerated display of someone getting out of a chair happened. Chloe shot a look towards Jesse as the volume in the room threatened to deafen everyone.

Jesse felt all of the breath leave his body as Beca Mitchell stood up. He felt his heart began to race as she turned towards him. All sounds disappeared from around him and all he heard was silence. His fingers went numb as she took a step towards him and as she came to within six feet of him, he felt a lump rise in his throat.

He swallowed hard to be able to breathe.

She locked eyes on him as she stood, crossing her arms in front of her. Jesse got lost for a moment as she stared into the swirling vortex that had become her eyes. He took in her tiny frame encased in expensive demin and a tight fitting shirt that showed off every perfect curve. He watched as a loose curl of her chocolate hair bounced and settled on her shoulder and he couldn't take his eyes off of her mouth as she spoke.

"Well ... I'm up!"

_'I think I am too.'_ Jesse thought.

**.o0o.**

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_A/N - Thanks for reading. I appreciate it more than you'll ever know xx_


	3. Secrets, Lies and Peach Taffeta

_A/N - Thank you to Raven12 for beta'ing this little nugget for me! I appreciate the time and support even though my iPad decided to delete Google Docs halfway through! Thanks for bearing with me (and it!).**  
**_

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**The Bodyguard  
.o0o. Chapter Three - Secrets, Lies and Peach Taffeta .o0o.**

**_Hollywood Hills - Mitchell Mansion_**

"Beca, this is Jesse Swanson." Cynthia Rose introduced them again for the fifth time.

Jesse didn't break eye contact with Beca once and he watched her as she delicately eyed him up and down, taking in his formal suit, shiny shoes and his overly neat, groomed and very tidy haircut. Beca almost seemed surprised when she swept her eyes up to his face and saw that his expression hadn't changed; she was clearly used to over enthusiastic fans fawning over her and wasn't sure how to react to a non ebullient facade.

"You don't look like a bodyguard." Beca eventually said and held out her hand towards Jesse.

**"**What did you expect?" Jesse asked taking her hand in his, feeling surprised how small and delicate her fingers felt. He looked into her eyes as he held her hand for a fraction too long and was surprised by the colour and depth of her steely blue orbs.

"I dunno. Tough guy maybe." Beca deadpanned as she looked up past his strong jawline to the smooth skin on his forehead showing the smallest of scars just by his eyebrow. She temporarily forgot the noise around her as she took in his prim shirt and boring tie, knotted tightly and neatly in the apex of his shirt.

"This is my ... my disguise." Jesse said quietly, leaning down a little as he let go of Beca's fingers as he spoke.

Beca smiled up at him, her face lighting up for a moment and her eyes sparkled with hints of glee before she checked herself and took a step backwards and turned back to speak to Donald who was nervously hopping from one foot to the other in the corner.

Cynthia Rose watched her leave and shook her head slightly before turning back to Jesse.

"This is Miss Beale, Beca's best friend since kindergarten and now her personal secretary ..." She said, indicating the redhead on her right.

"Nice to meet you, Mr Swanson." Chloe said brightly, winking gently as she smiled happily, offering a set of perfect white teeth. Jesse nodded his greeting. "Please call me Chloe."

"... Bumper Allen ..." Cynthia Rose continued, pointing over to the bar area where Bumper was busy scratching his ear with his finger and examining the contents.

Bumper nodded from his position but made no effort to step forward and shake Jesse's hand, which, on reflection was something that Jesse didn't mind at all having seen him roll his ear wax moments before.

Beca's hearty shriek caused them all to turn to look at her as she raised her eyes to the ceiling.

"NO! Lilly! No! The back's still not right. Do it again!"

Lilly shrank back into the corner and slunk into the shadows as Beca flounced back into the middle of the room. Jesse's eyes swept round to the blonde who returned his look with a brisk nod and a perfunctory wave of her manicured hand.

"... Aubrey Posen, Beca's publicist and schedule organiser." Cynthia Rose explained catching Jesse looking over at Aubrey. Beca was watching the interaction and stepped into the midst of everything.

"Can we get you a drink?" Beca asked Jesse, clearly bored of the introductions and the fact that she wasn't included in the conversation.

"Orange juice." Jesse replied politely, unsure what to make of the overly hyped up celebrity governing the room.

"Straight?" Beca asked and looked surprised when Jesse nodded; ignoring her innuendo. She spun around and nodded at her oldest school friend. "Chloe?"

Chloe set down her notebooks and piled the documents she was busily reading on top before jumping up and walking quickly over to the bar to fix Jesse a drink. Beca beckoned him over and motioned for him to sit down on one of the chairs opposite her own.

"Listen, this whole thing is Cynthia Rose's idea. This sudden obsession with protecting me. Bumper has always handled my security and we've done just fine so far." Beca said as Chloe handed Jesse a glass of freshly squeezed juice, complete with comedic umbrella and twisted straw.

"Thank you." Jesse said sincerely, nodding at the ginger who beamed back her response.

"I think Cynthia Rose's right, Beca. It's time you took more precautions." Chloe said and Aubrey nodded her approval despite her ear still being attached to her phone.

"Oh here we go again! Chloe, if I took precautions, I wouldn't have Brynn and Bowen!" Beca paused and waited for the joke to register with everyone, curling her lip when no one laughed.

"Chloe, I'm sure Ms Adams would tell you the number of nuts writing fan letters jumps every time Beca is on the cover of a magazine. She needs the publicity and for the public to see her as approachable and available." Aubrey muttered, covering the mouthpiece of her phone.

"Not like this." Cynthia Rose mumbled as a side door off the studio opened and an assistant quietly stole across the room, passing Beca a small sheaf of phone message which she then duly handed over to Chloe without so much as a cursory glance. The assistant Jessica, a mousy girl with a nervous smile handed over a stack of paperwork and a pen to Beca and pointed to the bottom of the first page for Beca to sign off.

"Relax guys. Seriously! I said I'd do it. You wanted me to have extra protection so I agreed to meet the bozo." Beca said, flicking through the papers in her hand before scrawling her name on the front. "But you see what I'm dealing with here? I'm willing to go along, as long as we all understand each other. I'm not going to let this alter my life one little bit."

Beca looked up to make sure everyone heard her and understood what she meant. She cast her eyes towards the suited bodyguard to her right, noting with interest that he was watching the room with disdain.

"What have I just signed?" Beca asked Jessica.

"Something from Clive's office. They called -"

"- Meh. Were you all just listening to me by the way?" Beca said dismissing Jessica before she had the chance to explain as she turned to Cynthia Rose, who recognised the look that Beca gave her.

"Honey, that's not going to be a problem. You won't even know he's here." Cynthia Rose reassured her before turning to Jesse, bringing him back into the conversation. "Beca runs a very informal household, we're all on a first name basis ... and I'm sure -"

"- And I'm sure you'll blend in just fine." Aubrey said, hanging up on her phone call and shaking Jesse's hand with a firmness that surprised him. "You can select whatever alarm systems you want for the house. Some kind of improved security for the gate if you think you need it. What else ... um, Beca?"

Beca, distracted by the group of dancers who had just started to warm up on the mats in the centre of the room, sighed with obvious boredom and frustration. Jesse looked over to Cynthia Rose and shot her a look that just smelt of 'you have wasted my time here' as she beckoned Beca back over to the group.

"Urgh, okay, okay. I think I'm safe when I'm here at the house so I guess the main thing will be when I go out. Bumper will be able to fill you in on all that. You two will have to work something out. I don't want both of you falling all over me everywhere I go. The most important thing is this though and this is not something I will compromise on ... I will not allow Bry and Bow to be affected by this thing ... whatever this thing even is that's got Cynthia Rose's panties in such a wad."

"Yes, Beca, I was just about to mention that." Aubrey said, stiffening slightly as she reached for her phone again before turning back to Jesse. "I was just going to cover the infants. We'll have to tell the children you have some other function here."

"I don't want them to think they are in a prison. Especially Bowen, his favourite place is the back yard. So, the house and grounds must not be altered in any way. He shouldn't be aware that you're even here. As for Brynn, just don't even go _near_ her ... like, at all. Is that clear?"

Jesse ran through the entire conversation in his head before he replied. He looked at Beca Mitchell, the epitome of everything he hated about the rich and famous lifestyle; the pandering to, the over indulgence and spoilt attitude which were three of his worst opinions of a celebrity.

He continued to look at her for a few seconds, taking the longest moment he possibly could as he bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from verbalising his thoughts. He glanced up at Cynthia Rose Adams once before casting his eyes back to the snarky and self assured beauty.

"Miss Mitchell ..." Jesse began, raising his fist to his mouth and coughing into his hand.

"Beca please." She said without malice.

"Beca. There's been a mistake. A misunderstanding." Jesse said, setting down his glass of juice on top of a video camera currently trained onto the dance floor. "If you'll show me the quickest way out, we'll save each other a lot of trouble."

"Huh!" Beca huffed, folding her arms across her chest and watched as Jesse looked around him, trying to locate an open pathway for him to leave.

"You can go past the pool." Bumper said, before adjusting his junk in his trousers and pointing with his spare hand.

"Shut up, Bumper." Cynthia Rose bit back. "Mr Swanson, I -"

"- Nice meeting you." Jesse said politely, before walking away, towards the glass door.

"Mr Swanson, will you wait a minute?" Cynthia Rose asked.

"CR, I don't think we should be begging this guy for his services."

"Bree, I'm handling this." Cynthia Rose as she looked over to Beca who stood looking coolly at Jesse as he slid open the glass door that lead onto a patio filled with lush plants in large ceramic pots. She shook her head at her young client.

"Jesse! Mr Swanson, will you wait a minute? Please!" Cynthia Rose called out as the door slammed after Jesse. Giving Beca the stink eye, Cynthia Rose followed Jesse out of the dance room, gesturing for him to slow down.

Jesse was pleased to be out of the room and away from the stuffiness of the people in it. He strode ahead towards his car, ignoring the calls from Cynthia Rose for him to slow down. He was overly conscious that she was having to run to catch up with his long stride. Feeling a slight sense of guilt, he slowed down and turned as she almost ran into him.

"Swanson, will you wait a minute? I should have told you more. I'm sorry but I was afraid she wouldn't go through with it. I thought I'd let the two of you work it out ... come to an understanding.

"We did." Jesse puffed out before turning away to walk off again.

"She's not a bad person." Cynthia Rose called out after him, continuing as Jesse looked behind him at the sound of her voice. "And whether she knows it or not, she needs you."

Jesse paused again, looking down towards the road where the covering of trees showed a clear gap and the wire fence showed a large hole in the opening. Jesse narrowed his eyes and blew the extra air out of his mouth; frustrated that the simplest of efforts at security where just left.

"You've come this far." Cynthia Rose tried again to get Jesse to listen to her. "Would you just wait here for one minute. I want to show you something. Please, Mr Swanson. Just one moment of your time."

Cynthia Rose, sensing she was getting through to him, turned back to run towards the house, hoping she understood Jesse well enough to know he'd still waiting when she got back. Jesse watched her chase back towards the house, and followed her as she made her way to the back of the large whitewashed building. He ran his gaze along the line of the house and saw a movement in amongst the trees.

Immediately he was on guard, the protective nature oh so present with him. His feet were moving before he realised what was going on and he soon found himself running up the steps in the back garden, taking them two at a time until he reached the top and surveyed the large patio area, shielded from view of the road towards the rear of the property. His eyes immediately swung over a large, open air swimming pool filled with inflatables of every type and colourful pool noodles.

He soon saw the reason for the movement that had just caught his eye and if he had a sense of humour about the whole thing, he might have laughed. Instead he stood watching the two children playing happily under the mid day sun. There was a woman off to one side, laid out on one of the sun loungers, clearly asleep if the book resting on her face was anything to go by.

He looked over to the two small children currently sitting in the shallow end of the swimming pool. The boy, who he assumed was Bowen, was sitting waist high in swimming shorts, complete with a plethora of water wings and a big rubber ring around his middle. He clutched a remote control in his hands and Jesse followed his line of sight until he saw a bright red speed boat currently heading towards the side of the pool at an alarming rate.

The boy looked up shyly as Jesse stood watching him and shyly put his head down, casting his eyes back to the water. He nudged his sister surreptitiously and she looked over towards the strange man in their backyard, not so much as flinching when it was someone they didn't recognise in their own home.

Jesse didn't quite know what to make of that. How many people came in and out of the Mitchell Mansion on a daily basis that the children didn't seem to be scared.

The little girl seemed to be intrigued by him and stood up from her spot in the shallow water and walked gingerly over to Jesse, leaving a trailing of fat water drops behind her. He was surprised by the miniature version of her mother as she stood in front of him and held out her hand.

"Hi!" Brynn said, smiling broadly, showing crooked little teeth.

"Hi." Jesse repeated and shook her little hand gently. He remembered Beca's warning about not speaking with the children and out of respect, he smiled down at the child before turning to walk away from them both.

"How are you today?" Brynn asked politely, taking a step towards him.

"All right. Thank you." Jesse said uncomfortably, over his shoulder. "How 'bout yourself?"

"Oh, I'm _fine_. I'm Brynn. So is my brother Bowen. Do you like boats?" Brynn continued, talking to Jesse's back. To his credit, Jesse stopped walking away from the pool area and turned around to speak to the young girl.

"No. I don't like boats." Jesse said, wondering where Cynthia Rose had got to.

"You don't, huh?!" Brynn said and Jesse saw a flash of her mother as she looked confused as she spoke. "Why not?"

"Oh, I don't know." Jesse replied.

"Sure you do, but you don't want to tell me." Brynn said, slipping her hands on her hips. Jesse caught the boy watching their interaction with interest and he felt for the children. Without wanting to think judgmentally, he wondered how much time they spent with their Mom. He crouched down so he was eye level with Brynn and saw Bowen stand up in the water and slowly creep towards them, shedding his rubber ring and arm bands. Jesse shrugged off his jacket to look less intimidating, pleased that he'd worn his Smith and Weston tucked into his sock so not to scare the small people.

"You are quite a smart cookie." Jesse concluded. Brynn shrugged as Bowen joined them both. "I'll tell you this. One time I was stuck on a boat with some people for four months."

"Like a lifeboat?" Brynn asked.

"Nope. A big white yacht. Do you know what a yacht is?" Jesse asked, looking between Brynn and Bowen.

"Yeah." Bowen spoke for the first time and nervously looked at his hands.

"Our Mom rented this huge yacht once, and we took a trip. It was great. Everyone threw up except me and Bowen. I love 'em." Brynn said confidentially.

"Did you take the trip with your Dad too?" Jesse asked but was suddenly acutely aware of how personal that was.

"We don't have a Dad, do we Bowen?" Brynn continued and Bowen shook his head to confirm.

"Well, I'm sorry to hear ..." Jesse began but was unsure what to say. He wanted to walk away but more than anything he wanted to run back into the dance studio and drag the 'frightened little lady' out to show her what she was really missing in life. He stood up, picking his jacket that he had laid out over his knee.

"You're the bodyguard, aren't you?" Bowen asked, looking up at Jesse and squinting at the mid day sun. Jesse stood in the path of the sun to shield the boys eyes.

"What do you know about it?" Jesse asked surprised.

"I've got ears."

"I'll remember that." Jesse muttered as Cynthia Rose walked by the pool area, temporarily looking surprised as she took in the scene before her. She looked over the sleeping female in the sun lounger and called out to her.

"Ashley, you doing okay over there?"

"I've literally been here the whole time." Ashley answered back, muttering under the book that was still covering her face. "Wuuut?"

"Never mind." Cynthia Rose shouted. She turned to the children. "Hi kids. You both doing okay out here?"

Both children nodded vigorously before Brynn took Bowen's hand and they headed back to the side of the pool. Jesse watched as they both sat down on the edge and dangled their feet into the water.

"Thank you." Cynthia Rose addressed Jesse.

"What for?"

"I'm glad you waited. Let's go over here." Cynthia Rose said, raising a manilla file and indicating a shaded area on the lower level, near to a flower covered trellis.

"Nice meeting you." Jesse called out to the children who waved as he walked away.

"Take a seat." Cynthia Rose offered and Jesse took the one with his back to the wall so that he had the complete vista in his sight. He hung his jacket on the back of the frame and quickly scoped out the perimeter and clocked another six weak areas with no security. Habitual in nature, he listened intently for a few moments as Cynthia Rose dragged her wooden chair with the upholstered arms across the paving slabs. He blocked out the noise but apart from a lawnmower in the distance and the sound of the children splashing in the water twenty or so feet away, the area was quiet. Almost too quiet.

Cynthia Rose opened the folder and slid the contents over to Jesse. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of gloves, slipping them onto his hands before picking up the documents in his hand and read the words of the first, crudely written document.

**"BECA MITCHELL, JUST DIE, YOU MISERABLE WHORE"**

Jesse raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything as he leafed through the rest of the pile. The letters, on first inspection, looked to be different sources, some were scrawled in handwritten ink, the paper pierced in several places showing obvious rage as the words were written, others were typed. A lot of them featured death threats or promised acts of harm. Some were assembled neatly from cut out letters from magazines, others just featured a word or two. Many of the documents were soiled, torn, folded harshly and erratically yet others were pristine. Occasionally there would a photograph of Beca, some professional art shots, others candidly taken while she was out eating lunch or walking to her car after the gym; but all scrawled with messages of hate.

"How many are there?" Jesse asked Cynthia Rose as he set the large pile down on the table in front of him, spreading a few of the documents out in front of him.

"This is just in the last three months. There's roughly a hundred or so."

"Have you ever tried having these professionally assessed?" Jesse asked and didn't flinch when Cynthia Rose shook her head no.

"Have the children -?" Jesse began.

"- Been threatened?" Cynthia Rose finishes his question with a question. Jesse slowly nodded. "There have been some threats in the past but not recently."

"Where is their father?" Jesse asked.

"Out of the picture." Cynthia Rose and then seeing Jesse's raised eyebrow continued. "Truth, and this is between you and me, I'm not entirely sure the fathers' name is on the birth certificate, if you know what I'm trying to say."

"Ah, I see." Jesse said, wanting to shake his head at the information but was careful to keep his opinion to himself, knowing he didn't know her well enough to judge.

"Personally, I do actually think Beca knows but has never revealed her children's parentage to the media and no one knows outside of her trusted friends ... which is a party of one."

"One?" Jesse asked.

"Miss Chloe." Cynthia Rose stated quite evenly.

"Any ex boyfriends? Ex husbands?" Jesse asked, acutely aware of the fact that he wanted to know the information on a personal level as well. "Jealous of her fame and fortune."

"Doubtful."

"How come?"

"She partied hard in her youth but since having Brynn and Bowen, she's been careful not to parade a torrent of gentlemen callers through the home." Cynthia Rose said bluntly, although she cast her eyes downwards as she said, shaking out the pink curls from behind her ear, clearly uncomfortable with what she had just said.

"Really?" Jesse asked incredulously, looking up as Aubrey began to descend the steps towards them.

"Whatever opinion you might have of her Mr Swanson, she is a good Mom." Cynthia Rose said. "I've only been on board for five years so you'd have to approach someone else for the -"

"- What's going on?" Aubrey asked, reaching down to flip a couple of pages over, gripping the corners of the paper tightly. She looked up at Jesse. "Cynthia Rose says you were in the Secret Service."

Jesse nodded slowly, and picked up one of the sheets of paper.

"Did you ever guard the main man?" Aubrey asked and Jesse looked up to catch her eye.

"I did a term with Obama."

"Oh, and how was that?" Aubrey asked as she pushed a couple of letters about on the table with the fingers. "I heard he nearly got a hoax bomb in the mail that the Secret Service let get to the Oval Office."

"There was a Ricin attack, yes."

"Did _you_ let that really happen?"

"Why do you think I wear gloves?" Jesse asked, raising his hands and waggling his fingers at Aubrey. She dropped the letters on the table like a hot potato and wiped her hands on her skirt. "Believe me or not, Ms Posen, not everything makes it onto the world news."

"How do you mean? Have there been threats to his life?" Aubrey asked.

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Who else have you watched over?"

"A few others." Jesse said noncommittally before admitting to one person. "Charles Lewis."

"Lewis got shot." Aubrey spat out.

"Not on my watch."

"Oh." Aubrey looked at him confused as Jesse began to smile, holding up a pink sheet of paper. "What's so funny?"

"This one is a little old lady out in Akron." Jesse said, picking up and handing over an errant work of art to Cynthia Rose. "She's written to everybody I've ever worked for. Look, at first glance, these letters don't seem to be anything to worry about. They don't bother me; it's all rage and anger and from previous experience, those planning an attack usually don't warn you about it first."

Jesse began to gather up the pile in front of him.

"Keep them though. You never know." He paused and pulled one letter out of the stack. It was a badly drawn picture of a doll, covered in blood with an explosion going on behind in the background. "This could be something."

"You think it could be the same guy? The one who rigged the doll?" Cynthia Rose asked, looking up to Aubrey at the same time.

"I don't know. Did you tell Miss Mitchell about it? Does she know about the doll?"

Jesse watched as Cynthia Rose and Aubrey exchanged awkward glances. It was clearly a sore point between them and Jesse was starting to get annoyed. He remembered the chauffeur's sore arm and was cross that people had gotten hurt but that no one seemed to be interested enough to tell Beca about the problem. He wasn't sure how he could take the job on if his client wasn't fully aware of the danger she was in.

"We said there'd been some electrical problem while she was on stage. Short circuit. Look, she doesn't need that kind of worry right now. It would upset her." Aubrey stated, slotting a hand on her hip and cocking her head to the side.

"What about the police?" Jesse asked.

**"**There was no reason for the police. No one got hurt." Aubrey replied.

"What about the chauffeur?"

"Look, it was nothing. It was just _our_ people there." Aubrey said and let out a nervous laugh. There was silence for a long moment. Jesse's thoughts immediately turned to the two small children up by the pool.

"Bree, I think we should show him the room." Cynthia Rose said.

"The room?" Jesse asked.

"Oh yes!" Aubrey said, clapping her hands together with enthusiastic glee.

**.o0o.**

**_Beca's Bedroom, East Wing_**

Jesse had followed Aubrey and Cynthia Rose through the main entrance of the house. He could hear and feel the bass coming from the music room as he surveyed the interior of the house once again. Walking slowly up the ornate staircase, he paused to look at the artwork on the walls and took in the formal tone of the downstairs rooms. Upstairs was a different matter and offered a more homely feel and Jesse was surprised to see that Beca Mitchell appears to have good taste.

That was until he was shown into her bedroom.

Stepping into the room, he held in a gasp at the gaudy and frankly fornicatorial splendour. The four large floor to ceiling mirrors gave the room a whimsical feel and the peach coloured organza curtains could be blamed for the kitsch vibe. The printed murals that hung from the walls in vibrant and lurid colours hurt Jesse's eyes but he couldn't take his eyes off the large, twisted metal four poster bed directly in the centre of the room. There were tall plants, wide light fittings and chandeliers in abundance. Everything was draped in floaty cloth and lace, swirling patterns and busy colours. It was loud, obnoxious and brash.

"Is this her bedroom?" Jesse asked, checking out a ceramic, life size dog in the corner.

"Yes." Aubrey answered quickly.

"No." Cynthia Rose cut in, speaking honestly. "She sleeps in a room next to the twins down the hall. Bree had this done for a magazine layout,

"'Superstars in their Boudoirs'." Aubrey said proudly. "Did you see it?"

"No." Jesse answered, wondering what the hell had thrown up all over the room.

"Beca never liked this room." Cynthia Rose continued. Jesse felt a moment of clarity with Beca for the first time in five minutes. Maybe she did have _some_ sense after all.

"She didn't have to _like_ it." Aubrey said, pouting a little. "What do you think of it Mr Swanson."

"It took a second for my eyes to adjust but I can roll with this." Jesse said, turning back to the ladies. "I don't have to sleep in it."

"We found the letter here." Cynthia Rose said, pointing to the centre of the taffeta and silk covered bed. Jesse spun around, his eyes narrowing and immediately he was on 'duty'.

"Somebody was in _here_?" He barked.

"Yes, somebody broke in and they, erm ..." Aubrey began, trailing off as she seemed unable to finish what she wanted to say.

"... Someone masturbated on the bed." Cynthia Rose finished.

"So gross." Aubrey muttered, clutching at her stomach.

"And Miss Mitchell doesn't know about this either?" Jesse asked as he watched Aubrey smooth down the covers and lovingly move a couple of the pillows. Cynthia Rose shook her head.

"Are you kidding? This would really freak her out." Aubrey snapped.

"What do _you_ think about all of this?" Cynthia Rose asked Jesse.

"Well, someone penetrates the grounds and the house, gets upstairs and jerks off on the bed ... I'd say that qualifies as a problem."

"What kind of problem?" Cynthia Rose asked.

"Oh don't be such a ding-a-ling." Aubrey barked. "We don't need this now."

"This house is wide open." Jesse said, ignoring her snark.

"Aca-excuse me?" Aubrey ranted.

"I said this house is wide open." Jesse repeated. "And you people have no clue what real security is or what it takes to achieve it."

"Jesse, I totally respect what you're telling me. Tell me how you want to work and I'll accommodate you." Cynthia Rose pleaded, getting a good read on Jesse. She could tell he wanted to help, that his interest had been stoked.

"Look, I _can't_ protect her. I won't be responsible for her safety IF she doesn't know what's going on."

"I'll talk to her, I'll make her understand. I can do that." Cynthia Rose assured him. Jesse nodded his approval.

"No." Aubrey said, already making strides towards the door of the room. "You'll say it all wrong, I'll talk to her."

**.o0o.**

Jesse emerged from the mansion and pulled a set of wire framed sunglasses from his pocket. He crossed the driveway and headed down the slight slope towards his car.

"Mr Swanson." Cynthia Rose called after him. "Look, she won't give you any static, you've got my word on that."

"Sure she will." Jesse mirthed, looking back up at the house. "I _have_ met her!"

"So what job's perfect, right? You're a bodyguard, aren't you?"

"That I am." Jesse said, unlocking his car and popping the door. He turned slowly to face Cynthia Rose. She smiled back at him, hoping that the display that morning hadn't put him off completely.

"So you'll take the job?"

"Cynthia Rose, if you ever lie to me again, I'll take you apart."

"Understood." Cynthia Rose said. "Thank you."

Jesse nodded to her as he slipped into the seat of his car. He sat and watched her walk back into the house before he slipped his arms over the steering wheel, resting his chin on his hands.

"I'll take the job." He muttered to himself as he surveyed the property once more. "But why, oh why, do I have to find her so damn attractive?"

**.o0o.**

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_A/N - I gotta put this story on hold for a couple of weeks, some family drama has come up. I'm not giving up on the story so I hope you can all bear with me. Thank you all for reading and for those that have taken the time to review. It really is very much appreciated xx_**  
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	4. Ramblings of an Author

**Intermission!  
.o0o. And A Note From The Author .o0o**

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**.o0o.**

Dear Readers

I have been away from writing for a while. After a pretty busy and emotional year (mother in law passing away, my own (continued) illness, a house move and the general stresses of life and family issues), I'm now in a place where I can get back to writing on a more regular basis ... i.e. updating more than once a month.

I am under no illusions whatsoever that I have an army of people sitting there waiting for me to finish this story but if you do and want an end to this little tale, please drop me a PM, find me on Twitter (my usernames are the same and I have a bright yellow button for an avatar which matches my button here) or a leave a comment in the review box and let me know. I love hearing from you guys, even if it's a negative review as it shows you care enough to tell me!

All of my stories are mapped out from the very beginning and all of them have a definite ending already written. I always write the last chapter first and then start at the beginning. Each chapter is planned and ready to be written. I guess I just need you guys to give me a virtual kick up the backside!

Wishing you all the best,  
waatp xx

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**.o0o.**


	5. Room For Improvement

_A/N - Weirdly enough, I have nothing to say so I shall just present the next (unbeta'd) chapter for you all to hopefully enjoy :) I haven't even given this a second read through so any mistakes you find are mine and mine alone. I'm simply too lazy to read back tonight and I blame the three large glasses of Merlot!  
_

_Once again, I do not own Pitch Perfect or the rights to the film The Bodyguard. I merely pinched the ideas and the characters. _

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**The Bodyguard  
.o0o. Chapter Four - Room For Improvement .o0o.**

**_Hollywood Hills - Mitchell Mansion - Pool Room_**

Jesse took just two hours to return to the Mitchell family home after leaving in his trusty Camaro to make a quick pit stop at his own Santa Monica home to collect some clothes and his tools of the trade. He always had a suitcase packed for the next assignment, needing to be ready at a moment's notice if the job called for it. He filled up the car with fuel, collected two large packs of M&amp;M's from the stand by the register and paid for everything with cash.

Arriving back at the house, he reversed parked his car next to the large room by the pool that he was going to use for his base and bedroom while he was sequestered to the Mitchell family. Opening the back seat, he pulled out three cases, a large storage box and a duffle bag which he carried into the open plan area one by one and surveyed his surroundings.

Which didn't take long.

The room offered a decent view of the house, pool and driveway. Jesse raised his sunglasses and tucked one of the arms into his mouth as he began to make plans. Knowing he needed to unpack and arrange his living accommodation quickly, he returned to his car and collected three folded cardboard boxes, some packing tape and a roll of trash bags from the trunk.

Quickly filling the boxes with the junk that had collected in the pool room, Jesse taped them shut and carried them over to the lockable storage unit he'd seen when he'd surveyed the property earlier on that day. He wasn't surprised to find it wide open and unlocked and stored the flyers, bits of old machinery, broken plates and everything else that had collected in the pool room.

Returning to the room, he was aware of a few pairs of eyes watching him but ignored the stares and carried on with his business. Rolling up his sleeves, he took, from one of the suitcase, a small box of cleaning supplies and using hot water, elbow grease and an hour of his time, he soon had the floor, walls and surfaces looking, and smelling, like new.

He dragged the pullout couch into the darkest corner of the room, surprised to find it relatively new and clean and unrolled the bed. Reaching into his duffle bag, he shook out fitted sheets, three blankets and two pillows and made up the bed, tucking in the corners tightly. Opening up the larger of the three suitcases, he pulled out several flat pack pieces of furniture and spent half an hour setting himself up with a desk, a monitor stand and a small bedside table. He was just screwing the pieces together of a thin metal framed canvas wardrobe when he saw a shadow appear on the floor, out of the corner of his eye.

Spinning around, he saw Amy, the chauffeur leaning against the door jam. Acknowledging her presence with a brisk nod, he largely ignored her as he took the remaining suitcase and flopped it onto the bed, opening it and pulling out clothes which he immediately began to hang in the wardrobe he'd just built.

"Wow." Amy said, looking around the room. "Yoos don't hang about, do yoos?"

"Excuse me?"

"The room ..." Amy said, nodding at the changes. "... looks good."

"Thank you." Jesse said politely as he finished unpacking everything he had brought with him bar the large metal storage box. He placed the duffle bag inside the smallest suitcase, slotted the cases inside each other and pushed them under the bed.

"So I've got a question." Amy said, walking into the room and leaning on the shower room door. She rubbed at her arm the whole time, something that didn't go unnoticed by Jesse.

"Yes." Jesse said, wanting to finish off getting unpacked so he could begin to make plans.

"Why did yoos say yoos was Chris Cringle?" Amy asked, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

"I wanted to see how hard it was to get in." Jesse said honestly, sizing Amy up.

"And it wasn't, was it?" Amy scoffed, looking towards the door.

Jesse narrowed his eyes for a moment before reaching into his washbag. He took out a small tube of ointment which he handed to Amy. She looked down at the unbranded tube and raised a questioning eye towards Jesse.

"Put this on your arm. It'll help with the ache."

Amy took the cream from him, unscrewed the cap to sniff the contents and looked up at Jesse noncommittally.

"I'll bet you can fill up a whole day just washing the cars and driving Beca Mitchell around town." Jesse said ignoring her unspoken question of what the heck he had just given her.

"That's my job cobber." Amy said, smiling.

"We're adding to your duties." Jesse said, turning away and walking towards the large storage boxes. He hefted it onto the bed while the news sunk in with Amy.

"Huh?"

"I said, we're adding to your duties. You're my new assistant." Jesse said, unclipping the lid of the box and subtly allowing Amy to see the contents inside. He pulled out three boxes of bullets and held them in his hands for a moment before setting them down on the blanket and pulling out one of the three Browning handguns he carried as standard.

"Says who?" Amy asked, stepping forward to get a better look at what else Jesse had in the box.

"Amy ..." Jesse said, glad he had her full attention as he had planned to reel her in exactly the way he had done. "... I've spent a lot of time guarding people all over the world and I've found one thing to be true. No matter how incompetent the assassins, no matter how much they miss their target by, there's one person who _always _gets hit."

Amy thought about it for a moment.

"Who?" She asked.

"The cocky chauffeur." Jesse mused for a second.

"So I'm to be your assistant?" Amy asked, inching towards the weapons on Jesse's bed.

"If Miss Mitchell agrees ... or even if she doesn't, yes."

"Do I get a gun?" Amy laughed.

**.o0o.**

Later that afternoon as the sun was high in the sky, Jesse took a second tour of the property along with Amy and Cynthia Rose. He began in one corner of the grounds and made several large sweeping gestures with his hands, showing both Amy and Cynthia Rose his ideas as he went along. Amy raised an eyebrow as she hurriedly wrote notes on a small notepad, scribbling down everything that Jesse said as he ran through his plans with Beca's manager.

Cynthia Rose nodded and agreed to everything he was saying as she pointed out a few things along one wall to which Jesse stood behind her and guided her eye line towards the house before looking back to the wall. It was obvious to anyone who was watching who was in charge and what was about to take place.

There were only two sets of eyes on them at that particular moment, keeping a lookout from their lofty perch high up in a custom built tree house. Jesse caught sight of Brynn waving at him and he nodded at her and Bowen as they sat swinging their legs a couple of hundred yards away from the planning crew. Jesse watched as Beca appeared at the bottom of the treehouse steps and called to the children. They both waved at their Mom happily before engaging in a short conversation with her. It wasn't until Brynn pointed in Jesse's direction that Beca spun around, instantly slotting her hands on her hips and removing the sunglasses from her face. Jesse internally winced as he felt the venom cascade down the soft rolling hill of the property and felt a tug in his gut as she ordered the two children to go inside.

As they neared the house, Jesse could hear a television on and paused to listen to the announcement.

_"__It's Oscar time again, folks, and with Academy members marking their ballots today for this year's nominations; some canny tipsters in Vegas have announced their picks for the Awards. Echoing the prevailing buzz in Hollywood, the Vegas Hilton is gambling on one sure thing at least. Newcomer Beca Mitchell is tipped at three to one to lead this year's Best Actress runners. The darling singer made a notable acting debut last fall in Pitch Perfect, the surprise a capella smash hit featuring some of the superstars own mashups and a cover version of Pitbull's Give Me Everything Tonight which could mean Miss Mitchell is eating her words if she doesn't take home that statuette on March 20th ..."_

Jesse grimaced as he continued to walk around Beca Mitchell's home, barking at Amy to take notes which she continued to scribble in the small black book clutched in her fingers. A couple of hours passed before whole of the property was surveyed to Jesse's satisfaction and he paused at the front door to the mansion, when he heard Amy sigh heavily.

"Let's get this done today. I can spend time tonight ordering what I need and with any luck have some of the works started tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Cynthia Rose questioned.

"Is that a problem Miss Adams?"

"No, not at all. I'll arrange for Miss Mitchell to be out tomorrow so-"

"-So she doesn't chew out anyone ass." Jesse quipped, uncharacteristically smiling for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Something like that." Cynthia Rose smiled.

"Show me inside the house?" Jesse asked, pushing on the front door, which, to his disappointment, was still unlocked.

"I'll have Stacie come around too. She knows the house better than anyone." Cynthia Rose said, walking on a little from Jesse.

"How long has she worked for Miss Mitchell?" Jesse asked as they entered the foyer.

"A little over three years."

Jesse nodded as his eyes swept over the grand staircase for the second time that day. He surveyed all the windows and doors before becoming aware of approaching footsteps.

"Mr Swanson?" The tall leggy brunette Jesse had met before came into view. "I'm Stacie. We met before."

"Yes." Jesse said, shaking the hand held out to him.

"I'm here to show you around the house."

"Fine." Jesse muttered, looking up to the ceiling.

The four people walked through each room and Jesse opened and closed most doors several times. Any cupboard, closet or opening large enough to fit an adult in was examined and documented on the plan that Amy was writing and she offered to photograph each room as they went through. Jesse gave a nod of approval at her idea and continued to fidget with the door locking mechanisms. Stacie found it all rather amusing as she stood to the back of the group filing her nails.

A further two hours passed before Jesse deemed everyone had given enough that day. He remembered to thank each person and asked Amy to meet him at the pool room at eight sharp the next morning for a briefing. He took the notebook from her, slipped it into his jacket inside pocket and made his way back outside. As the sun was hedging its bets behind a cloud, he took one last look around the property, looking for shadows and more places to hide in the dark.

Loud music caught his attention and he headed off in the direction of the noise. He wouldn't admit to anyone else that he had hoped for a glimpse of his new employer but luck was not on his side as he came across a small wooden hut fronted with large patio doors. He looked around the corner and into the dance studio where he came face to face with Chloe, Beca's assistant.

She waved him in as soon as she saw him.

"Hi!" She said brightly as he pushed open the door.

"Hello."

"Feel free to look around." Chloe said happily, as she reached for a thin towel hanging on a hook by a small sink in the corner of the room. "There isn't much to see."

"Thank you. I'm sorry to disturb you."

"That's all right. It's an excuse to rest. This is my private place. I'm the only one who works out around here." Chloe said, wiping her face.

"Works out?" Jesse questioned. "Surely Miss Mitchell-"

"-Oh Beca's different. She dances her way to a good body."

_'__So I noticed.'_ Jesse thought and quickly chastised himself.

"How can I help you Mr Swanson?" Chloe said as she filled a glass with water from the sink. "Um, can I get you a drink or anything?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you. Please relax around me, it's okay."

"How do you mean?"

"I've seen the way she treats you."

"Who?"

"Miss Mitchell."

"Oh. It's okay. I don't mind." Chloe said, not disguising her flat response to his statement.

"You don't have to be so formal and uptight around me. It's okay. We're in this together." Jesse said, in what he hoped was a kind and friendly manner.

"Thank you. I'm upbeat most of the time anyway!"

Jesse acknowledged that with a short nod as he looked around the building. He walked over to a wall which was covered in photographs and glanced at each one as Chloe danced her way over towards him.

"My own ego wall. No platinum records though."

"You and Beca?" Jesse asked, pointing at a picture of teenagers.

"Yep. And that's Aubrey." Chloe said indicating the third person in the photograph. "We were at college together for a time."

"Is that where you met her?" Jesse asked continuing to look at the photograph of the three girls hugging.

"No, I've known her since we were three. I guess it was always inevitable we'd go to college together too. We joined an a capella group where we met most of the people who work for Beca now. She only lasted in college a year before the bright lights lured her away."

"I see." Jesse said before pointing to another picture of a much younger Chloe and Beca.

"When I was a kid, I put a little band together. We played high school dances, stuff like that and we were pretty good. Then Beca joined the act. As you can imagine, she was _quite _a little entertainer. Even then, she had a unique way of simply stopping the show. So I kind of quit. Professionally, anyway." Chloe laughed without humour.

"You never went back?" Jesse asked, surprised by her tone.

"It was pretty obvious who the star was."

"Does that hurt?" Jesse asked.

"Not anymore." Chloe said brightly. "I've gotten a good life out of Beca's success, she's my best friend and I'm Godmother to her children who I simply love and adore. I get to travel the world, eat in swanky restaurants, go to movie premieres and live for nothing in a big house. It's not a bad life."

"But are you happy?" Jesse asked, looking back to the pictures.

"Mostly." Chloe smiled.

But the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.

And Jesse couldn't help but wonder why.

**.o0o.**


	6. Driving Miss Daisy

_A/N - Just for Alexa64, because she asked SO nicely for an update! :)_

_This is an unbeta'd chapter, simply because I don't have a beta for this story and I admit, I'm too lazy to reread it myself!_

* * *

**The Bodyguard  
.o0o. Chapter Five - Driving Miss Daisy .o0o.**

* * *

_**Hollywood Hills - Mitchell Mansion - Driveway**_

Jesse was impressed that Amy arrived a few minutes early for their eight am start the next morning. He'd spent most of the night going through the notes and making plans for improvements on his iPad. He'd fired off a few emails to his trusted suppliers and tradesmen and he knew work was going to start in a couple of days. He now needed Amy's assistance for when they were outside the house, where Beca was going to be the most vulnerable.

"Talk to me about her cars." Jesse asked, as they walked towards the quadruple garage located near to the gates. The garage itself was in a similar coordinated style to the house and was a good three hundred yards from the main home. It was a two storey structure which housed a small apartment for Amy above the open plan forecourt below. The wooden doors were securely locked but Jesse knew anyone with a crowbar could easily get in.

"She's got four in total, one pimped out limousine which is used for all travel ta and from award ceremonies, high profile dates and, on occasion, when she wants some privacy in the back seat ... if yoos know what I mean-"

"-Does she pick up men a lot?" Jesse asked sharply and Amy's good humour dissipated quicker than a snowball in a microwave.

"No. I was just jokin' cobber. I've never been asked ta brin' a gentleman caller home in the limo."

"Okay." Jesse said. "You said four cars?"

"Yes, there's also the Porsche Cayenne which drives like a dream, it has bullet proof glass, off roads pretty good and is surprisingly fast, probably could outdo a hormonal kangaroo. She owns a BMW One Series that purrs like a cat and we use when she takes the twins to school and then ..." Amy paused as she pulled open the garage doors. "... this."

"Oh dear Lord ..."

"Yeah. Pretty sweet huh."

Jesse's eyes swept over the neat and tidy garage. Over to one side was a floor to ceiling tool cabinet and bench with a collection of cleaning products neatly stacked next to a pile of buckets. Jesse guessed Amy did the basic car maintenance herself and all four cars were spotlessly clean. He looked down at the number plates on the cars and sighed.

"Any of these an obvious hint?" He asked, his tone mocking the personalised plates.

"That depends on what you call a 'hint'." Amy said, walking over to the smallest car of the lot.

"I don't want anyone on the street to be able to look at the cars and know who owns them."

"I don't think there's anything here you'd call a 'hint'." Amy repeated. "She ordered all the latest bells and whistles inside but kept the colour black for that reason."

"And the excuse for that one." Jesse mocked, pointing to the car Amy was hovering next to.

"It's a custom made colour. She likes purple!"

"First off, it's a Porsche 918 Spyder which she has destroyed by inking it bright purple."

"She a celebrity and wants nice things." Amy said, defending Beca's choice for a playful car.

"Where the hell does she go in it?"

"Anywhere she likes." Amy said bluntly.

"On her own?"

"Yes."

"Sweet Jesus." Jesse muttered.

"They threw in the personalised plate for free."

"Not surprised if she spent nearly a million dollars on the damn thing. It screams unsafe."

"But it dances on the road." Amy said and held up her hands in mock surrender when she saw the look on Jesse's face.

"Pop the hood." Jesse demanded and Amy reached into her pocket for a bunch of keys, pressing the fob to open the Porsche's doors. She pulled the lever to release the catch and Jesse strood over and carefully lifted the hood. He looked inside for a moment or two, reaching into the guts of the engine and fiddling with a few of the wires. Looking victorious, he pulled out his arm, handed Amy a bunch of wires and cables and slammed the hood shut.

"What the-"

"-It never happened. I don't care what you tell her. Get rid of the 'Beca' plates to something generic today and let the cars get a little dirty."

"But ..." Amy began, still holding the wires in her hands.

"I'm in charge now."

"Yes sir." Amy conceded.

**.o0o.**

_**Hollywood Hills - Mitchell Mansion**_

The next day saw work begin on demolishing the stone wall to the front of the entrance to the property and the small gate house. The noise was surprisingly kept to a minimum and Jesse was glad to see that there were at least twenty workers on site to get the job done as fast as possible. He spoke with the foreman, Benji, who he had known and respected for many years and agreed that Benji would check and test the surrounding fences and replace any that needed doing.

After making a few phone calls, Jesse saw Amy watching from the pool area and waved her down. He knew he'd been blunt with her yesterday and while he wasn't there to make friends, Jesse didn't want anyone resenting his presence in the house.

Beca Mitchell being the exception.

"S'up." Amy said as she came within earshot. Jesse noticed she was hanging back, probably unsure what to do or say after her rebuking the day before.

"Are you busy?" He asked.

"No. I'm usually washing the cars around this time."

"Bring the Cayenne round the front."

"Why?" Amy asked, although she was already rooting in her pocket for the key.

"We're taking it for a spin."

Amy nodded and headed off in the direction of the garage to get the large SUV out as Jesse asked. Jesse turned back to talk to Benji but he had already walked off to speak to his workers and find out where they were on the schedule. Jesse looked around the property again and was pleasantly surprised to see Brynn and Bowen watching from the balcony outside their mother's bedroom. They both waved and Brynn blew Jesse a kiss with her hand. He didn't quite know what to make of the exchange but nodded in their direction.

He walked down to the front of the property where Amy was already waiting in the car. She opened the door for him from the inside and Jesse refrained from raising an eyebrow in her direction at the gesture. He climbed into the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt, instructing Amy to do the same.

"Where to boss man?"

"Three cars have been down this road since six this morning. This is a quiet road, agreed?"

"Yes." Amy said, confused.

"Three houses further down?"

"Yes. Just the Martins, the Kendricks and the Priestleys." Amy explained.

"Okay. So just drive then. I want this car up to sixty as quick as you can."

"Do I get to ask why?" Amy asked.

"Not yet!"

"Okay!" Amy laughed as she switched on the engine and threw the gear lever into drive. Jamming her foot onto the gas pedal, she released the handbrake simultaneously and the car lurched forward, sending up a cloud of dust as she pulled away from the kerb. Jesse was quite impressed by her skills already.

"Now approach the corner at sixty." He reminded her. "Just before you turn into the corner, swiftly come off the gas to create a forwards weight transfer and provide maximum grip at the front end. You'll need this to allow a swift turn in."

"Turn in where?" Amy asked.

"Hook your hand in a position under the steering wheel so that you can pull on it hard and twist as much as possible."

"Okay." Amy said, doing as instructed. "Um, the corner is coming up."

"I know. When I say turn ... turn ... and take your foot of the gas but be ready to press down hard when I say gas."

"Got it cobber."

Amy was slightly concerned as they approached the corner at considerable speed, it was a tight bend at the top of the road and she knew that there wasn't much protection between the road and the houses behind the walls and she didn't fancy having to tell Beca she'd smashed her car to pieces playing games with Jesse.

"Turn!" Jesse yelled and pulled on the handbrake sharply. Amy spun the wheel around hard, pulling hand over hand to get the wheel around as quick as possible. She pulled her foot off the pedal as the back wheels screeched on the asphalt.

"Gas!" Jesse bellowed and Amy threw her foot down quickly as the back end of the car skidded into the corner. "And relax when you are ready."

"Whoa!" Amy laughed out as she realised she had performed a rudimentary one eighty handbrake turn. She eased off the gas pedal and they came to a slow stop a few yards from where they had started. "That was awesome!"

"Awesome possibly but one day this may come in handy. I want you to practise this in all of the cars. Even the limousine."

"Dude, I'm on it."

Jesse unclicked his seat belt and popped open the car door. He stepped out but turned before he slammed the door.

"It's all very well giving the lady a smooth ride but you could be the difference between life and death one day, don't forget that Amy."

Amy mocked saluted him as he closed the door and Jesse hoped that some of what he had just said made sense to her. He walked back up to the house as Amy drove the car back through the gates.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Excuse me?" Jesse said, aware of a fast moving tiny but fierce lady heading towards him from the house.

"You heard me. What was that?" Beca said, bearing down on Jesse. He could feel the steam coming out of her ears.

"I'm teaching Amy how to drive. The proper way. No more Driving Miss Daisy."

"She will never do that with my kids in the back." Beca spat out. "I've had the Kendricks on the phone already complaining about a joyrider. Do that shit somewhere else. And why did Amy tell me something was wrong with my Spyder when I just had it back from servicing last week? I bet that is _your _doing. Quit poking around in my affairs. I don't need you here."

"Have you finished?" Jesse asked calmly.

"No! While we are at it. My daughter was playing up on the grass area and your workmen were throwing rocks everywhere. One landed three feet away from her. She could have been hit or killed and-"

"-She wasn't."

"That's not the point." Beca said aggressively. "You can fuck about all you like but DON'T get my kids involved with ... with ... this."

"I've got work to do." Jesse said. "Good day ma'am."

Jesse walked away from Beca, leaving her standing in the middle of the driveway with her arms crossed in front of her. She opened her mouth to say something else but a workman began drilling into the concrete flooring and the noise of the machine absorbed any more bile coming out of Beca's mouth.

Jesse took a moment to speak to Benji who looked over to the area that Beca had been gesticulating at and nodded. Beca couldn't hear what they were saying as she stamped her way back up to the house.

Jesse followed subtly, cautiously behind her as she slammed the front door with vigour. He didn't want to admit that he was mildly amused by the exchange as he rounded by the area near the pool. He turned around on the patio area and looked over at the property for the tenth time that day, pleased with the measures that were being put in place.

He snapped back to attention when he saw the smallest of movements out of the corner of his eye. There was a black vehicle parked in the same spot Jesse had seen it yesterday and the hairs on the back of his neck sprang to attention. His hand was immediately inside his jacket, resting on the Browning that was strapped to his chest. He took a step forward just as the SUV hurriedly pulled away from its resting spot on the kerb. Jesse squinted through the trees and tried to see more clearly.

"I think he's got a black 4x4. Could be a Chevy. More like a Toyota."

Jesse's head spun around and he looked down into the big, beautiful eyes of five year old Bowen. Cocking his head to the side, Jesse surveyed the young child before him, sizing him up immediately. Where Brynn was the more outgoing of the twins; she talked for them both, lead the way to wherever they were going and was seemingly brave and resilient, Bowen was quietly intelligent, observant and compassionate. He seemed to understand strong, powerful women and Jesse knew that gift was rare and would take him far in life.

"What's that?"

"The man who's after Mom." Bowen said quietly. "He always parks in the same place every day."

Jesse interested was quickly piqued. He crouched down next to Bowen who dropped his head to his chest straight away.

"How do you know about the man?"

"I told you ..." Bowen said. "... I've got ears."

Jesse immediately stood up, straightened his back and enjoyed the feeling of the Browning in his jacket pocket. He narrowed his eyes and looked down to the street. He couldn't fathom how a five year old was so perceptive but his mother was so wrapped up in herself, she was unable to comprehend what was going on. Growling inwardly, he ruffled the soft dark hair of the little boy who was standing so close to him.

"Good job." Jesse said quietly and Bowen hitched up onto his toes.

"Any time sir."

**.o0o.**

_**Two Days Later  
F.B.I. Los Angeles Office - Conference Room B.670**_

"This could be something."

Jesse stood in a darkened room on the fourth floor of the FBI's office in Los Angeles, looking at an image projected onto the large screen steadfastly secured to the wall. The room was barren except for a stubby wooden table and four chairs. The single bulb hanging from the ceiling gave the room a starkness that was unachievable in most places. Jesse didn't care, he wasn't here for the scenic atmosphere. He looked over to his old friend Flo Fuentes, who he'd known since high school and her colleague, Emily "Junk" Watson.

"Yes?" Jesse turned to Flo as she studied some of the letters that Jesse had brought with him from the Mitchell home. He'd discarded the one from the lady in Akron but the ones with the hand cut letters had caught his attention. Flo had had Emily scan them onto a flash drive which Flo had inserted into her laptop and projected onto the fifty inch television.

"Yes, this one ... Mitchell bitch, you have everything, I have nothing, give me everything tonight or the time is coming when you shall die ... see on the left hand edge ... the small indent. Could be a finger print. And the large red mark in the middle is a mark made from sheep's' blood."

"Sheep's blood?" Emily asked, looking over to her boss.

"Yes." Flo said seriously.

"How do you know by looking at it?"

"I licked it before I gave it to you to scan."

"Umm ..." Emily said, casting a sideways glance at Jesse who remained impassive to the exchange.

"Get the letter to forensics." Flo said and nodded towards the door. Emily collected the piece of paper and with a look of confusion, heading out of the room.

"Still winding up the interns I see." Jesse said, a flicker of humour ghosting over his face.

"It makes me happy." Flo mused. "As if I would lick a piece of evidence. Anyway, I do think this could be something."

Flo pointed towards the screen again and stood looking at the document for a couple of minutes. She flicked through a few of the slides, and paused at another one of the pages Jesse had brought.

"This is another of the ones we think are worth pursuing. Lots of work went into it. No prints. We're doing lab work on it. It could be nothing. But we do need to take this seriously." Flo switched off the projector and walked towards the door, switching on the light and turning to wait for Jesse. "This is the one you think is tied to the doll?"

"That's what her manager thinks." Jesse said collecting his jacket and heading out of the door behind Flo.

"This could all be because this 'Give Me Everything' business is a natural with the record being rereleased and with the movie and all."

"What's being released?" Jesse asked.

"You really need to get up to date with your client." Flo laughed as they stepped into the elevator at the end of the corridor.

"Unfortunately." Jesse growled, pressing the button for the ground floor.

"I sort of lost track of you after Washington. Lewis wasn't your fault, you know that right?"

"Yeah." Jesse said non committedly.

"How's the private stuff working out?"

"It's fine."

"Big money, I bet? Huh?" Flo pressed but Jesse just shrugged his shoulders as the elevator dinged to let them know they had reached the floor they wanted. "Shit. I knew it. It is big money. Fuck! You need an assistant? I'm ready to get out. I've lost my tolerance for assholic behaviour. You should see the jerk we're covering now ... I spent last week trapped in a shipping container with only leaves and gas receipts for company."

"Who? Actually, don't tell me!" Jesse laughed, holding out his hand to Flo. "I appreciate the help today."

"You're welcome J. Listen, don't be a stranger, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Jesse said, his left shoulder dropping a bit. "Don't _you _be so hard on your new partner, either."

"We'll put this stuff through Washington. Behavioural Sciences should have something in a couple of days."

"That quick?"

"Yeah?"

"Why am I getting all this cooperation?" Jesse asked.

"She's a big star. Important people care about her. Politics and show business are practically the same these days ... got any crowd photos we can use? Anything recent to see if we can spot familiar faces?

"I'm trying to keep her away from crowds." Jesse mirthed. "But I'll speak to the assistants."

"See you Jesse."

"Bye Flo."

**.o0o.**

_**Later That Day  
The Ivy, Robertson Boulevard, Los Angeles**_

There were some things that Jesse hated about The Job and the reason why he shied away from celebrities and their, in his opinion, obnoxious lifestyles. One of those reasons was the pretence and fakeness surrounding meeting their so called friends for lunch. Jesse despised the air kisses, the phony exuberance and the exaggerated 'daaahling' nicknames that they all called each other. Not for the first time, Jesse was glad to be standing quietly in a doorway watching the interaction between Chloe, Beca and a woman who she had hugged hard when she'd entered the restaurant but constantly rolled her eyes at whenever the woman looked away.

The restaurant was busy, for a Thursday.

Lots of customers came in for a shot of espresso, some lunched with friends, the business suits tended to stay towards the back of the building, huddled into neat booths where trades where fixed, commerce exchanged and merchandised sourced. The Ivy, Jesse noticed with disdain, was a popular haunt for celebrities and he constantly swept his eyes out to the front of the building where tourists, paparazzi and autograph hounds hugged the metal railings in the hope of catching a glimpse of their favourite star.

Jesse kept a keen eye on Beca from behind his darkened shades noting, with some interest, that she didn't eat much off of the plate in front of her. She occasionally looked up in his direction but he knew she was looking through him, rather than _at_ him. He was very happy when the waiter brought over the bill, presenting the receipt first to the lady whom Beca was sharing lunch with. He watched as the friend waved the check towards Beca who took it with a slight flicker of annoyance. Jesse wondered how many people took advantage of Beca's position and assumed she wouldn't mind picking up the cost of the meal, clearly judging her lifestyle as an excuse for a free lunch. For the very first time, he had an insight to a different side of her life.

The two ladies stood and hugged as Chloe collected their purses. Jesse moved from his position, partially hidden behind a pot plant and pulled off his shades. He reached the door before they did and pulled it open, scanning the crowd as they began to crane their necks to see who was about to come out. He stepped to one side to let Beca and her friend pass and, as they did, the two began whispering to each other. Beca cast her eyes back at Jesse as the other woman let out a peal of laughter. Chloe smiled warmly as she thanked Jesse for holding the door and the four exited The Ivy to a few squeals and shouts from the crowd collected out the front.

Knowing that cameras were pointed in their direction, Beca and her friend embraced in front of the building and faked laughed over nothing before walking down the short run of steps to the street. As they walked through the gate, the woman turned to Beca thanking her for the invite to lunch and professed how lovely it was to see her. As she turned to walk away, she paused, half turned and as an afterthought spoke to Chloe.

"Goodbye Chloe. So great to see you. Keep in touch."

"Take care Hannah." Chloe said, a coldness to her tone which Jesse picked up on but didn't remark upon.

Chloe handed Beca her purse and they walked together along the road to where Amy was waiting with the limousine. Jesse followed a step or so behind, uninterested in their conversation and relatively comfortable with their current surroundings.

He leapt into action a moment or two later as a young girl of around ten ran forward in front of them. Jesse immediately swept out his arm in front of the youngster who looked surprised by his sudden movement. He didn't touch the child but put himself between her and Beca who hissed under her breath as the girl's mother joined them on the sidewalk. Beca elbowed her way past Jesse, catching him in the gut on purpose and stood in front of the child.

"Hey." Beca said, taking the pen from the child and signing her name across a crisp white sheet of paper in the autograph book. "What's your name sweetie?"

"Anna." The young girl said shyly.

"That's a really pretty name." Beca said, smiling at Anna.

"Thanks." Anna said quietly.

"She's a really big fan of yours." Her mother said earnestly.

"Is that so?" Beca said.

"I love Pitch Perfect." Anna said, warming up a little.

"I'll tell you a little secret." Beca said, bending down to get closer to the girl.

"What's that?" Anna whispered.

"We're making a second one."

"Really?!" Anna asked, her eyes growing wide.

"Yep."

"That's awesome! I want to be an actress one day."

"That's cool. It's a lot of fun." Beca said, standing up. "But you've got to work real hard at school first. Get those grades."

"I will."

"Have a nice day." Beca said pleasantly to both Anna and her mother.

"Thank you Miss Mitchell. Your twins are beautiful." Anna's mother said passionately. "Thank you. Anna is quite shy but wanted to say hello."

"You're welcome." Beca said, turning away slightly to signal the end of the conversation.

"Bye." Anna waved as she took her mother's hand and they walked away. Beca's eyes swept around her quickly to make sure there was no one else around. She leaned in towards Jesse.

"If you ever do that in front of one of my fans again ..." She hissed at him. Jesse kept his face impassive. "... Chloe! Get the car here now! I want to go home."

Chloe signalled to Amy who drove the hundred yards to meet them rather than wait for them to walk to her. She pulled up to the kerb to where they were standing and Chloe opened the door for Beca to get in. Jesse was surprised to see Aubrey waiting in the back of the limo but figured that Amy had gone back to collect her or picked her up from a meeting as she wasn't with them when they arrived at The Ivy.

As Chloe climbed in the car as well, Aubrey stuck her head out of the door.

"You've got a lot to learn about show business Mr Swanson."

Jesse held his breath as he climbed into the car; he really didn't care what they thought. He looked left and right down the street as he slid into the sear. His job was to protect his client whatever the cost and he didn't work with people to make friends with them. He shut the car door and ignored Bumper who was sitting in the middle seat, next to Amy. Jesse could tell he had just woken up and questioned, not for the first time, how he managed to get a job as a bodyguard.

"Hey, let's go." Bumper said, twitching in the seat. Jesse looked in the side mirror a couple of times before he looked over to Amy.

"Okay, let's go."

Amy nodded and pulled away into the stream of traffic as Aubrey began filling Beca in on her schedule for the next day. The drive home was tense and the inane chatter from Bumper wasn't helping Jesse's mood.

"Let me set you straight on a few things. For starters, I love this lady ... what I do for her, I do for love. I'm not some hired fucking gun who is out to make her life miserable." Bumper said quietly to Jesse when they were almost home. Jesse understood the dig Bumper was trying to have his way but he didn't acknowledge it. He was too busy looking out of the side mirror at the cars behind them. Bumper continued to drone on, all the while eating the bag of Doritos he'd pulled from his jacket pocket. "I do things the way she likes. Her happiness is everything to me."

"No problem." Jesse said quietly, his eyes not leaving the mirror. "I'd like to know _how _you handle things, Bumper."

"I handle things fine, Jesse. You watch _me _and _you'll _learn something. And furthermore, if-"

"-Turn left." Jesse said to Amy, ignoring Bumper.

"Is that him?" Amy asks, turning the wheel and indicating to turn into the side street.

"Hey, what's going on?" Bumper asked, crumpling the bag of Doritos and tossing it into the foot well.

"Shortcut." Jesse said solemnly.

Jesse continued to watch the traffic as they turned down the road and wasn't surprised to see a black Toyota 4x4 follow them a few seconds later.

"Keep slow, Amy, keep very slow." Jesse said, not taking his eyes off of the road.

"You want me to do a one-eighty?" Amy said excitedly.

"No." Jesse said, a little sharper than he intended. "Just slow right down. But don't actually stop."

"Got it." Amy said, taking her foot off of the gas as the limo coasted along the side road.

"Why are we stopping?" Aubrey called from the back of the car, looking up from some papers that she was going through with Beca. "Are we here?"

Jesse decided not to answer her as, in truth, he didn't know what to say. Keeping an eye on the 4x4 behind him, he was about to tell Amy to put her foot down when the Toyota seemingly understood that something was amiss. Suddenly, the sound of screeching tyres filled their ears as the black SUV pulled away from behind them, swerved on two wheels down a side street and disappeared from view.

Jesse jumped out of the car as it was still rolling down slowly, looking all around him as he hit the ground. He noted that they were a street or two away from the Mitchell Mansion.

"Take them straight up to the house." Jesse called as he slammed the door, banging the top of the limo a couple of times with the flat of his hand to signal a 'go, go, go'. As he turned to run along the side street, he heard Amy pull away sharply towards the house. Jesse picked up the pace, his ears keening to hear the sound of the Toyota as it screeched around the second road. He knew that he had an opportunity to catch the license place of the car as he pounded the pavement.

Nearing the Mansion, he saw Amy bump through the side gates in her effort to get up to the security of the main house. She caught a couple of the workers, intent on fixing the gate house and surrounding walls, by surprise and one jumped back to avoid getting clipped by the limo's wing mirror as it sped past them.

Jesse saw the Toyota chugging past the property, having slowed down to try to catch a glimpse of the megastar. His blood began to boil as he cut through the gates a minute or so behind the limousine. Racing over the uneven ground, he stopped at the apex of the hill and looked down at the car.

He locked eyes with the driver.

Ignoring everything around him, he bolted back down the hill and leapt through the small row of tall trees as the 4x4 began to accelerate away, churning the asphalt and creating a dust storm in its wake. Jesse landed on the road, rolling twice over as he hit the deck. Clearing the dust from his eyes he looked up in the direction of the disappearing vehicle but was too far away to see the licence plate or any other details.

Cursing himself for being a few seconds too slow, Jesse rose up onto his knees and slapped his hand down on the road. He quickly jumped up and brushed himself off, wincing slightly as the dull pain in his ankle throbbed for a few moments. He walked back up the driveway of the mansion, carefully surveying the building works as he went.

Feeling frustrated, he ignored everyone around him as he headed towards the pool house to change his suit pants, having ripped a hole in them when chasing the car a few minutes before. He was just tightening the buckle on his belt when there was a soft knocking on his door.

"So, it's real then?" Amy said, pushing open the partially open door.

"Excuse me?" Jesse said, checking his fly, just incase she was talking about something other than what he was expecting her to mention.

"The threat. It's real."

"Very much so." Jesse confirmed. "I wouldn't be here otherwise. And that exploding doll, the one that hurt your arm, was no accident or coincidence."

"I understand that now."

"I've got something for you." Jesse said, turning to open a small box that he'd left unpacked on one of the small kitchenettes counters. He pulled out a small communication device and held it out to Amy. He indicated a small button and and ear piece. "Wear this on your sleeve to talk into and the other piece is obvious. Charge it every night so we can always be in contact."

"Yeah, I got it." Amy said, taking the gadget from Jesse.

"Any questions?"

"Nope."

"Be prepared for anything at anytime. It's getting close."

"How do yoos know?"

"Trust me, I know."

**.o0o.**


End file.
